A Puzzle Not Solved
by Old Toad
Summary: Set in the first season of Stargate: Atlantis, a deleted scene that was never shown: John Sheppard comes close to a disturbing insight into the nature of the reality he occupies.


It was a beautiful, calm evening, and a rare chance for relaxation: for once Atlantis was not under imminent threat of catastrophe or alien invasion. The sun was about to set out of a cloudless sky, and a pleasant breeze blew in from the sea. On a pier, just above the gently lapping waves was a row of recliners, two of which were occupied by John Sheppard and Radek Zelenka.

Teyla Emmagan approached bearing a tray with a steaming glass jug and matching tiny glass cups. "I have made the infusion; just let it cool a while. … Is Doctor McKay not joining us?"

"Rodney made a number of excuses," explained John. "Chief among them was a scepticism about the whole business. Oh, and that an extra hour of proper sleep would be better for him."

"Perhaps, in his case, that is true. Now are you quite ready?"

John nodded, but Radek looked uncertain. "This brew, it is not … it, err, it won't make me see things that aren't there?"

Teyla smiled. "Not at all. My people have used it for many years. It helps to _clear_ the mind, not confuse it. It does not make you drunk, its main effect is to make you _more_ rational."

"And you have cleared it with Doctor Beckett?" queried Radek.

"I have his blessing. He has hopes that it 'might be useful in the treatment of PTSD.' John?"

"Post-traumatic stress disorder, that is, battle fatigue."

"Ah, yes. It has some effect at high doses. This is a very mild form."

"OK, I'm game," said John, sitting up. "Are you joining us?"

"I hope to. But I promised I would observe the two of you first."

"Fair enough," from John; a shrug of acceptance from the Czech technician. Teyla poured and John tasted: "It's sweeter than I expected. … Interesting taste."

"I have added honey to hide the bitterness of the leaf, and some traditional herbs to give flavour. Now lie back and relax, both of you. It takes a little time."

They waited. The sun began to set. John fidgeted, "Shouldn't I be feeling, well, a bit different by now."

"It may affect you without you being aware. Try talking to each other, ask each other questions. Ask about things which puzzle you, and discuss them. This is how we used it on Athos."

"OK," said John. "How come the puddle jumpers never run out of power like other Ancient devices? Radek?"

"Easy: the inertial braking works by converting the kinetic energy back into stored energy which can be re-used. Go fast and stop and almost no energy is lost."

"I get the picture."

"Then the craft moves though air with _zero_ friction, absolutely none. How it does that I have no idea - perhaps Rodney knows - even Asgard technology can't do it."

"Thank you, Dr. Zelenka. Now you ask," said Teyla.

Radek thought for some time, then: "This has been puzzling me since I first joined Stargate Command: how is it that everybody speaks _English_? Asgard, Goa'uld, Ancients, the Wraith, you Teyla, and every settlement in the Pegasus galaxy we've been to. All speak English, modern English, as their first language. English is not my language; Czech is my language."

Teyla looked pleased; she had feared that the session would be all about trivial technicalities, and this was neither. As Major Sheppard looked nonplussed she tried an answer herself. "The ancients set up human colonies on many worlds in this galaxy and left us with the stargates. Because of constant traffic and trade between worlds we have always needed to speak the same language."

Radek took a deep breath. "That is true, but it does not explain why you talk in the same language as us from the Milky Way. You have been separated from us for ten thousand years, yet you speak a language which did not even exist one thousand years ago."

John said, "Radek is right. Ever since General O'Neil got me involved I've been so busy saving my neck that I've never even given it a thought; I just took it for granted, like a two-year old watching the telly."

"The drink is working," said Teyla. "I'll refill your glasses and take some myself. Let us stay on this topic for a while."

"I would guess," said John, talking slowly as though thinking about each word, "that the Ancients are behind it. Some mind-thing that makes us _think_ we are hearing a language we understand."

"Like the Babble Fish," suggested Radek.

"Come again?"

"English writer, I read as young man to improve my English. Dick Adams? No: Douglas Adams, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. The Brits think him very funny, I prefer Kafka." Radek sipped at his second glass.

John downed his and spoke irritably. "Babble Fish, Radek. Tell us about the Babble Fish."

"Ah, yes: fantasy story about human-like aliens and spaceships and so on. So that human character can understand aliens he puts a tiny Babble Fish into his ear. The Babble Fish is a living creature which translates what is heard. Clever literary device."

"You're saying we are all unknowingly fitted with a _parasite_ which translates whatever we hear?"

"The - _fictional_ \- Babble Fish does that. The author was never clear on whether writing was converted."

"That would explain why we understand Ancient speech but struggle with their written language."

"I guess, but there are many difficulties." Radek held his glass out to Teyla for a refill. "On Earth there are many languages: hundreds from Magyar to Maori. On Earth no one in Stargate Command is able to talk with such non-English speakers. If I speak in Czech you will not understand me. _Ty mi nepochopíš, že_?"

John finished his glass. "That is a 'difficulty'. Also, we can talk easily with the Asgard and the Goa'uld. It's hard to explain that on a parasite."

"Not a parasite, then?" asked Teyla. She poured everyone another glass. "The jug is empty now."

They all sat down and silently considered the problem. John suddenly had a thought: "It's the stargate! That's the common factor! Everyone in the Pegasus galaxy uses stargates, so do the Goa'uld and the Ori. It must do something to those who go through it, something the ancients programmed in millennia ago."

Teyla was now benefiting from her drink. "Is there anyone in Atlantis who does not speak English at all?" she asked. "If I talk to them we may learn something."

Radek shook his head. "Good idea, but no. I had to pass tests in spoken and written English, it was the same for all the military." John confirmed this.

"There are many people in the Pegasus galaxy who have never been through a stargate, yet you are able to talk with them," Teyla pointed out.

"Yes," replied Radek, "but it could be sufficient for only one party to have gone through a gate. I will put this to Rodney; nobody understands the stargate system better."

"And I will talk to Doctor Beckett about the possibility of a translating parasite. It could be vital to our long-term success or failure against the Wraith."

John said, "I kind of agree, but let's not call it a day just yet. I don't find either stargate or Babble Fish over-convincing."

"You think there may be a different explanation?" asked Radek.

"Well, you made the good point that it is modern English which Teyla and her people, for example, at least _appear_ to have been speaking all along. Is there any other possible explanation than some mysterious simultaneous translation? Teyla, do your people have any old written records, centuries old that is?"

"No, John, all our old books and papers have long been destroyed. But the Genii may have material going back many centuries."

"It would be great to see if they are in modern English, but as things stand we may have to hold a while on that."

"How old is 'modern English'?" she asked.

"That's a question for Elizabeth Weir, not a military man. But languages change over time, and not just with new words coming in. How old is Shakespeare, four hundred? His plays are just about understandable, but modern English they are not."

"John is right," said Radek, "natural languages evolve over time. But I don't see where this takes us."

"Nor do I. I thought I had the glimmer of an idea, something way-way-out, but it's gone. … I'm not sure I want to follow it up right now."

Teyla smiled. "That is due to the effect of the leaf wearing off, which can happen quite suddenly: your unconscious mind no longer accepts where your thoughts were taking you. We can try again once I have more leaf. Let us now 'call it a day'."

The very next day there was a new emergency, soon followed by a grave and mysterious threat to be overcome, rapidly followed by a full-on Wraith attack. Almost every day threatened the total destruction of Atlantis. There was no time for quiet contemplation. That discussion on the pier about the mystery of the English language was forgotten so completely that it might have been edited out of their lives. And Teyla never repeated the experiment.


End file.
